Momnesia

Walking the course

AUGUSTA, GA. - Everything seems uphill at the Masters. It’s almost as if the area was built by magic where it would most inconvenience both guests and residents.

Walking uphill from my editor’s house in National Hills to the tournament gates, a memory comes back.

“Hey, in my hometown, that guy would have given us a ride on his hood,” I point out a burgundy early 80s model Monte Carlo passing us on the road.

“What?” A.C. asks, incredulous.

“You know. You’re walking up a hill, and someone drives up and says, ‘Hop on!’ And they take you to the top of the hill and then you hop off,” I answer. “Is that weird?”

“Uh, yeah…” she says.